


Moniker, not Epithet

by RemainingQuestions



Series: Joe Has A Knife [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Painplay, Praise Kink, references to Apathetic Xisuma/Joe Hills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27478897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainingQuestions/pseuds/RemainingQuestions
Summary: The Xisuma's share a lot. Ax shared what Joe did to him. Ex has always been curious. Joe, meanwhile, is also curious.knife joe....2! more knife and more praise
Relationships: Evil Xisuma/Joe Hills
Series: Joe Has A Knife [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007916
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Moniker, not Epithet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swc-afterdark (ironmermaidens)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/gifts).



Evil X twisted his fingers. The water around was gently lapping at the beach. His thoughts were racing. The building remained the same. 

This was foolish. 

He was a coward. 

But fate had other plans. Or maybe Joe had simply been waiting, watching.

Not even halfway through his turn, the hermit stepped out of the half finished building. “Don’t want to come in for tea?” As if he was regular Xisuma, not Evil. 

Still, Evil X could feel himself nodding, still twisting his fingers. 

“Come in then, Evil X, come in.” 

So Evil X did. 

Joe had sweet coffee and made tea for him and it was nearly normal. Just two pals. Nearly like Evil X wasn’t, well, evil. Nearly like his every thought wasn’t about what the man opposite had done to his Apathetic clone. 

He swallowed and shifted his legs. 

“There’s more on your mind, isn’t there?” 

Evil X flushed, not even able to hide in his helmet. “Maybe.” Because Ax had a mirror in his room now. Because Ex was curious. Because Joe. Because  _ Joe _ . 

“Sometimes I think Void is the only of you three that isn’t tight-lipped about everything, but he has his own ways of sharing only exactly what he wants to.” Joe smiles, genuinely smiles at Evil. “You’re just a bit less subtle about it.” 

“I’m-” Evil starts, feeling the flush burn ever brighter on his skin. He could be subtle, he could! 

“It’s okay, Evil.” Joe puts a hand on his, warmth somehow radiating into Evil X despite the thick gloves. “I’d like to know, but it’s okay if you can’t tell me.” 

“You…” Would it really be okay, if he shared but also if he backed down, hid away? “I want to try. What you did, with, with Ax.” His heart was thundering, and surely any moment now his face would light on fire. 

“Painplay?” He’s not shy or coy about it. There’s just a small smile on his face, as if he expected this all along. 

Evil X nods, face still aflame. He sees the way it changed how Ax moved, while it healed. He knows his own limits. He’d like to try. “I’d like, to, to try.” 

Joe smiles, eyes still soft but a glimmer in them too. “Okay.” He turns his hand, and his fingers tangle with Evil X’s. “Okay.” And then he simply takes another sip of his iced coffee. 

The tea in his cup shakes as Evil X takes the last sip. 

Joe stands up, and Evil X follows. 

Joe walks deeper into the unfinished monastery and Evil X follows.

Joe guides him to a bed, and Evil X sits down. 

Never once does Joe let go of his hand. 

Not until Evil X is sitting down. Not until he moves his hands to unbuckle his suit. 

His fingers are still gentle, still nimble. Evil X wants to help, doesn’t just want to sit there like a lump, but as soon as his fingers twitch, Joe shushes him. 

The weight of the chest armor falls away and Joe strokes his palms down Evil X’s chest. Gentle pressure spread out evenly, but Evil X can’t help but bite his lip as they move across his hard nipples. 

The action only makes Joe smile. 

“Guess I’ll find out if that flush goes all the way down, huh?” It’s not even funny, necessarily, but it’s so quintessentially  _ Joe _ that Evil X can’t help but snort laugh, some of the tension dissolving. 

Evil X glances up, into Joe’s eyes, and Joe leans in, quickly pecks his cheek. 

“You’re so cute like this, you know?” 

“What? No, I’m-” tough and cool and evil. “No, ‘m not.” 

Joe’s hand reaches up, thumb stroking where his lips had touched moments ago. “Cute.” 

Meanwhile, his other hand pulls off a glove. Evil X bites his lip, literally and figuratively, as his face is in flames. 

Joe kisses his thumb, pulls off his other glove, and kisses the first knuckle of his pinky finger. 

He takes his time, removing the armor pieces. 

Gently pulls Evil X’s boots off. 

Peels off every layer of his protection and Evil X feels like he’s peeling away all the layers in his head too. 

He doesn’t even talk, just gives gentle kisses, lets his fingers trail.

Tantalising and teasing. So soft and sweet. 

Somehow, it helps. Helps settle and soothe Evil X. His heart is no longer going a mile a minute, at least. He feels lighter, without the plating. 

Joe stands up fully and lets his gaze wander over Evil X. Takes him in like an artist an empty canvas. 

When he steps closer, he steps between Evil X’s legs, and they fall open to accomodate for him. 

“Hey.” The word is gentle and Evil X feels his eyes dragged up towards Joe’s. “Good boy.” 

He feels his nose twitch at that. Wants to say something against it. Wants to  _ prove _ he’s not. But Joe’s thumb is stroking his bright red cheekbone again. 

“None of that now, Evil X. You’re being very good for me.” 

His eyes fall down even as he pushes his face into Joe’s hold. “Joe…” His voice is soft and reverent. 

Joe’s hand stays on his cheek as the other finds the edge between pants and shirt and pushes in and up. And up they push still, until he has no choice but to let Evil X’s cheek go so the shirt can be pulled off. Onto the messy pile it goes. 

Joe pushes on Evil X’s chest, and pushes harder as Evil X stays sitting up. “Lay down for me Evil X.” 

The words are stern, but the tone is kind. A command, but a gentle one. Evil X wants to push all Joe’s buttons, wants to see exactly what he’d do to him then. Evil X wants Joe to keep looking at him like an empty canvas. Wants Joe to paint masterpieces in bruises and cuts on him. 

Evil X lays down. 

“Good boy.” Joe’s hands trail over Evil X’s chest, soft and barely there. Evil X’s muscles twitch under the ministrations. 

He bites his lip, moves his hands to push down his pants. 

“No.” Firm tone. Joe’s hands hold his. “I will. Not you.” 

Joe’s hands are firm against his. So close to his crotch. Really, what else can he do but buck upwards. “Now, none of that.” And Joe pulls his hands, both in one of his, up to his chest. Leans down and over him. “My choices now, Evil X.” 

Maybe it’s the eye-contact, or the possessive tone. “Please?” He has never been above begging, even as he feels the flush draw downward. 

“My decision, Evil X.” 

Evil X bucks his hips up again. “Please?” 

Joe doesn’t respond, simply bends down even further and starts rummaging along the side of the bed. “Now, I know it’s not really seen that way, and I understand that you especially might struggle with it, but it  _ is _ okay to ask for help sometimes Evil X.” Joe leans back and Evil X sees a cuff with a chain to the bed in his hand. “And it’s okay if you need help, really. So I’ll give you some help.” And Joe moves his one hand into the cuff and pulls the chain so his wrist can’t be moved from the spot on the matrass’s edge. 

“Joe.” It’s not a whine, Evil X doesn’t  _ whine _ . But maybe someone else saying Joe’s name like that would be whining. Maybe. He doesn’t even know what he wants, anymore. More. Less. All. Nothing.  _ Joe _ . 

“Don’t worry Evil X, I have one on the other side too.” And Joe leans back down again and pulls out another cuff again. “I know temptation is hard to resist, but  _ trust me _ that it will only be better for the wait.” The cuffs are soft around his wrists, the tension present but not painful. “I’ll make sure you’ll be able to resist this temptation.”

“Joe…” He wants to hide his face in his hands, but those hands are tied to opposite sides of the bed, spreading him wide open. 

“I’m here Evil X. I won’t go away any time soon.” 

Evil X groans, high in his throat, and lets his head fall back. 

Joe lets his nails slide down Evil X’s chest, raises red marks that start fading as soon as they exist. “And now.” With a gentle touch Joe unbuckles Evil X’s belt, no pressure to speak off. Evil X groans again, soft and high. 

He’s not even hard yet, tiptoeing that line for so long. 

And Joe keeps him there, splayed before him naked. Naked and open. An empty canvas ready for Joe to make art emerge from. 

His pants join the pile of clothes. He feels vulnerable and safe. 

“I was thinking, you know,” Joe starts, “while we were having tea.” His voice is soft, tone not showing a hint of the circumstances. “About your name.”

Evil X feels himself looking at Joe as he rummages around. Hesitant but curious. 

“Because it sure is a telling name.” He turns around, glint of a sharp knife in his hand. “Evil.” 

“So?” He might be naked and tied down and pouting, but he wasn’t gagged, at least not yet. So Evil X would still use his words. 

Joe sits down next to Evil X’s hips, lays a warm hand on Evil X’s chest. “It’s not really accurate at all, is it? I don’t know if it ever really was.”

“I-” tried to destroy the server, several times. Wanted all of the hermits dead andor gone. The red on his cheeks feels heavier. 

Nails scrape from clavicle to hip, four red lines boldy across his chest. “Angry, maybe, chaotic, certainly, but Evil?” 

He’s blushing again, still, bright red mixing with the marks Joe’s nails scratch into him. 

“And now, pretty and open beneath me, so sweet?” Joe’s hand opens, flat palm warm at the base of Evil X’s cock. “You’re closer to  _ angelic _ .” 

His breaths are soft pants now, gentle in the air between them. 

“Not even a hint of bucking up.” Joe moves his hand to the base of Evil X’s dick, gentle but firm pressure. “Such a  _ good _ boy.” 

Evil X’s arms strain against the restraints as he turns his head, bright red and hot. 

“It’s in you, clearly.” Joe’s voice is still soft and confident, like they’re talking about the weather. “So I think I can pull it out.” With one hand still firmly on the base of Evil X’s cock, Joe places his other hand on Evil X’s chest. 

The metal is cold against his skin, in those few spots Joe hadn’t held it tightly. His skin ripples, and his nipples turn hard. His teeth take a tight hold of his bottom lip. 

“Would you like that, Evil X?” Joe’s eyes are bright blue and brightly honest as they look into Evil X’s. 

For a moment, Evil X is frozen, can feel a thousand potential futures unfolding, all different from a different word here. Would he like that? Wasn’t that why he was here? Would he  _ like _ it? He would. He nods, teeth still on his lip, blush still on his cheeks. 

Joe smiles, open and honest and turns the knife. The edge is there, simply there. A pressure, but not one that breaks skin. “Good.” His palm strokes up and down Evil X’s cock. “So good.” 

Joe keeps up that extremely slow rhythm as he focuses upward, to Evil X’s chest. The sharp blade’s tip trailing soft patterns. 

Swirls and straight lines, around his muscles, his nipples, his belly button. 

Never once breaking skin. 

Evil X dreads and desires the moment it does in equal parts. 

And then the point presses down at the top of his pec and the gasp he immediately takes only pushes it that much further in. 

Joe takes it slow, but doesn’t stop. Evil X is twitching and shuddering, every gasping breath another musical noise from his throat. But Joe doesn’t stop the grand sweeping arc, ending beneath his nipple.

Evil X looks between the crescent line and Joe’s face, flushed and pupils blown. Trousers tenting. It wasn’t like Ax had described it, but so much better. 

It’s only a moment’s respite before the knife slices again, a shorter stroke upwards and then a small slice sideways. 

Evil X looks down, sees the large capital G on his chest. Part of him realises then what the other letters will be and he bucks up into Joe’s hand. 

Joe doesn’t speed up the hand on Evil X’s dick, but he doesn’t slow the hand with the knife either. 

His chest twitches under Joe’s gentle ministrations, large looping structures carved sweetly into him. He’s on edge, so on edge and Joe is keeping him there even as the edge narrows and narrows. 

Joe keeps him on the edge, narrow like a knife. 

The knife tip is still against Evil X’s panting chest, poised and paused. Evil X looks up again, into Joe’s wide eyes, his flushed face. 

“God, Evil, you-” Joe licks his lips, and Evil X tries not to think about what it means that he made  _ Joe _ speechless, tries not to think about the softly burning pull with every breath, tries not to think about Joe’s hand still on his dick, tries not to think and fails. 

“ _ Joe _ ,” he whines as he thinks, as he pants deeply, his chest expanding and falling so very much. 

Joe’s cracked lips press down on his sternum and when he lifts his head again they’re red with Evil X’s blood. 

The knife pressed down.

Joe’s hand speeds up.

A slice. 

A crescent. 

Evil X is so close. 

Joe is still bend down over him. 

His tongue reaches out, licks the curve of the second O, and that shock of saliva on his wound is what pushes Evil X over. 

His eyes are locked to Joe’s, whose mouth still licks at his blood as Evil X’s back curves. 

Eventually, his back falls back to the bed and Joe slows his hand. Moves his head upward to kiss Evil X’s neck instead. 

Leaving lipstick marks of his own blood. 

Joe remains there, arms stretching over Evil X to unchain him. 

He’s half on top of Evil X, even as he carefully never puts pressure on the open wound on his chest. 

One hand finds Evil X’s waist, curls around it. 

In the crook of Evil X’s neck, a soft breath. “No matter what you think, Evil X, evil was never an epithet for you.” A soft kiss as Evil X tries to remember the exact meaning of ‘epithet’. “A moniker, yes, but not an epithet.” 

Joe seems to have settled in for a nap and Evil X is inclined to agree, held as he is, softly and warmly. 

The light will wake them up again, and Joe will insist on properly cleaning the cuts, explaining how to ensure quick healing. 

Evil X will sit, breathing deeply, every intake of breath a reminder of how Joe sees him as the skin pulls. 


End file.
